Welcome to the Chicken House
by Fairady
Summary: Rogue accepts a ride from the wrong stranger and meets a totally different member of Team X.
1. Hi!

Warnings: AU and crackish to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: Born from a comment_fic request; What if Marie met Wade instead of Logan? Which you will all regret very soon, because the AU request crawled into my head and now it won't leave!

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"LOOK at that title! How can you NOT want to read it? That title is like the awesomest title that titled. EVER!"

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I wasn't looking for a sidekick. Last thing I've ever wanted was to be responsible for it. Do you know how much work it is to take care of a sidekick? You got to feed them and walk them and make sure they don't piddle on the carpet when you accidentally forget to let them out of the closet for a week or two. It's a lot of work!

Man, would you guys shut the hell up? Your screaming is throwing me off track here and I got a story to tell before I run out of space!

So, I wasn't looking for a sidekick but I found myself saddled with one anyway. Got a sweet little gig in Butt-Fuck-Nowhere to off some guy's ex for a nice little sum. Found her in some hideous house that looked like a chicken on acid. I wanted to ask her what the hell was up with the house, but the contract specifically stated no contact with her. What can ya do? So, I shot her in the head. Simple, easy, and really boring! Can ya blame me for wanting to explore the dead broad's house?

Oh yeah? You're a real funny guy aren't you? Well let's see you blame me through that big hole in your throat! Ha! Who's the funny guy now, huh! That's right! It's me!

Where was I? Oh, yeah, the chicken house. And let me tell you, you haven't seen obsessed until you've seen the chicken house. Talk about taking a theme and running it to the ground. Everything in there was chicken! From the chairs to the TP, if it was there it was a chicken. Including the big heaping bowl of scrambled eggs in the kitchen.

No, they were actually pretty tasty, but there's something pretty twisted about eating eggs off of a chicken plate.

Should've left after breakfast and gotten my pay. It would have saved me in the long run, but did I do that? Nooooooo! I had to finish my tour and check out the basement. And do you know what I found there?

Are you ready for this?

Seriously, cause this will _break_ your mind. I know. It broke mine and my mind isn't there enough to be able to cope with any more breakage. Huh. You know, that's probably why I ended up doing what I did.

Anyway! The basement. It was a frickin' S&M dungeon. Cuffs, chains, whips, everything you could think of was there. That's not the part that'll break you though! The worst thing about it was that it all fit the chicken theme!

I'll just leave that for you guys to imagine on your own. Won't be any worse than what was actually there.

I was so torn between being impressed and disgusted that I didn't even notice the girl in the cage until she started calling me funny names. Uh-huh. Girl. In cage. Chew on that one for a bit!

Well, of course I let her out. If you remembered, this story is about how I got a sidekick. No wonder they sent you guys out as canon fodder. You guys barely have enough brains to be called proper henchmen.

Temporary lapse in sanity, or is that insanity for me? Normally, I'd laugh -long, loud, and hard because that is just too funny- and walk away. It was the chicken decor that made me do it. I let her out and immediately found myself the recipient of a massive Stockholm-esque crush. Literally. Figuratively. I mean, I got _teleportation_ powers, but I don't got _nothing_ on a sobbing and clingy teenager.

Yeah, laugh it up. Glad to see my suffering is amusing to someone at least. No! Don't stop, look you can laugh with me! Oh. Guess it's kinda hard to do that with perforated lungs.

Long story short -because this comment'll cut out soon and you look like you're almost out of blood- I took the kid home with me. Mostly because I had to. The chicken house was sorely lacking in crowbars and the kid just _wasn't_ letting go. That's how I ended up with the sidekick.

Huh, guess you were shorter on blood than I thought. Pussy! It's not like you needed to know why I kept her anyway. Ruin my rep if anyone thinks I went soft for a kid who sees me as a goddamn hero. Or even if they think that I might like having someone look up to me like that despite what I am.

Nah! Kid makes one hell of a cup of hot cocoa though, and that alone is worth the price of having to listen about which of the Jonas Brothers is cutest.

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	2. Mood: Pissy

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: Ok, ready for some confusing stuff? Chicken House is going to be the main story-line -yeah, the chapters are short because I'm not good at writing multi-chaptered fics- and Caldo de Pollo is going to be for the random stuff that belongs to the same AU but doesn't fit the story line. Questions?

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"If I have to do this, then I want my own Frodo. Sam can just try to kill me."  
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Dear Diary,

This is ridiculous! I'm never letting Wade watch Oprah again. I already have it on child block and it'll take him at least a month to find a way around it. Normally, Oprah would be the least harmful thing he could watch, but I guess she's been doing a month long special on parenting.

Anyone with half a brain ought to know it's bad to put things into Wade's head. Strange ideas tend to come _out_. Like this whole diary thing that he's _watching_ me write!

Yes, knew you were standing behind me. You ate garlic sticks and your breath still smells funky.

I guess some therapist or psychologist said a diary was a good way for children to get through their "issues" about their parents. So now I'm just writing crap down to fill out the two page requirement. Thought I'd be done with this when I ran away from home and school.

Of course my accent is missing. I'm _writing_ not talking. How would you write an accent anyway?

I tried explaining that I wasn't Wade Jr. or whatever other ridiculous name he uses, and that pregnant-high-school-drop-out isn't the same as mutant-runaway. Yeah, explaining things to Wade never really works out when he's got his mind set on something. So it was either this or the "father son/daughter/whatever bonding" fishing trip. The last thing I want to do is try to talk to Wade while he tries to figure out how to bait a hook.

Communication issues are for marriage counselors, Wade. You'd have to take me to Kentucky before we can do that, and I'd better at least get a steak dinner before the honeymoon.

I know that was evil, but I think the noises you make while your brain breaks are funny.

Fine! Issues. I personally don't have any issues with Wade. "Issues" are what other people have with him. The people who like to say hello by emptying four or five clips of ammo into him, like that Zero guy. Sure, I might accidentally put a bullet or two in him, but nothing more than that.

Last month was your fault! If you're going to dress up in a bear suit and scare the crap out of someone who's _already shooting_ you ought to expect getting shot.

_I_ have problems with Wade. Problems are things like him never putting the toilet seat down at 2AM and me falling in because I'm still asleep. Problems are fixed by me using the hose to make his sleeping butt as drenched as mine. See? No bullets involved, so I don't have issues. Just a few problems.

And he's _not_ my Dad.

No, you're not my Mom either. If anything, _I_ feel like the Mom around here. What? No, I don't want a Mother's Day c-

Ok. Now I've got to worry about what he's going to bring back this time. Forget Oprah, I'm blocking _every_ talk show now.

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	3. Advice Wanted

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: I have nothing to say about the fic. But I do want to say thank you to the people who are following it and have been leaving me reviews.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Who'm I to turn down free therapy?"

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Hey, how ya doing? I'm Deadpool and I'll be kicking your asses tonight. Feel free to gnash your teeth and wail at will, but don't forget to fill out the "How's My Driving" form at the end of the night.

It's so good to be able to get out of the house and stretch my legs without having to worry about the kid. For being about all of five foot nothing she can be pretty intimidating when she wants to be, and she's on some cleanliness kick. Turned my righteous bachelor's pad into something presentable when I was away on my last mission, and now she expects me to _keep_ it that way! Can't even make the slightest mess in my own home! Kid's on a mission from above or something. On the upside, it's never been so easy to find crap I never even knew I had.

You don't need to know who the kid is, I talked about that in the last chapter I narrated.

I really should've known better than to let a teenage girl into my pad. Talk about an impulse buy! And I can't even return this one to the store. Tried it already. She just walked back home and threw her shoes at my head. That's another thing I wasn't counting on with my sidekick. The teenage temper that gets worse on certain days of every month. Sure, it was funny at first, but that was before I taught her how to shoot. It was also before she figured out I really would heal just fine from a few bullet holes.

Ever made fun of a PMSing teen with a gun? Ow. They tend to aim in dirty, evil places. Like this! Hurts, doesn't it?

I child-proofed the house too, and that wasn't cheap. There's all these things you got to buy and hardware you need to put it in. I don't think it even worked. The kid keeps hooking things up the the outlets despite the plugs, and always gets the heavy duty pots out of the cabinets. Which is kinda embarrassing because _I_ can't get those cabinets opened now.

Gotta be something to do with her mutant power, 's not like it does anything useful. Sure, the living vampire thing is totally cool, right up until she starts doing the Linda Blair impression. The speaking in tongues bit it awesome to watch, but I could really do without the pea soup bit. She's like a natural dead pool, except she doesn't need the surgery to get her upgrades. Stryker would've creamed himself if he'd ever met her.

Oh! Sorry, was that your arm? And rib and leg and- Well, I can't help it! Thinking about that asshole just gets me in a mood.

It's kinda nice having someone around. Never knew before how much I missed having someone actually talk back to me, because I can go on for ages like this but after a few years you start to run out of things to talk to yourself about. Could do without the melodramatic sighs and eyerolls when Golden Girls are on -she'll convert mark my words!- but she also occasionally makes dinner! Yeah, I could've kidnapped the mailman again for all of that, but the kid's better anyway. She only screams half as much as they do.

Anyway, nice as it's been, I've been thinking lately. Holed up with a crazy merc like me just isn't good for the health of a growing teenage girl. Not really good for the health of anyone actually. Looked around and I think I've found a place she can go. Or the place found me.

Do you know how freaky it is to have all the voices in your head go quiet all at once? It sucks and it also kinda hurts. Like worse than an ice cream headache, by at least a hundred. Think it hurt the other guy more though, because it only happened for about three seconds. Eh, something about my head being too fucked up so it was all email after that.

Hey! I know I'm fucked up in the head, no need to be insulting about it. You won't like me when I'm angry. I'll- Well, keep doing what I'm doing now. But I'll be angry about it!

There's a school out east somewhere. Some sort of haven for mutants I guess. Not really important what they are, it'd be good for the kid to hang around with other mutie teens. Become a well-adjusted semi-productive member of society or whatever it is kids do these days. The news says school shootings are all the rage now, so she's already ahead of the curve there!

You know, you guys are even better than therapy! You listen to all my problems and don't offer anything more than screams in return. My last therapist kept trying to get me to "face my issues" and "become a better person." Had to let the woman go when she tried to get me to forgive everyone who'd screwed my life up.

I'll forgive them, I _am_ a forgiving guy after all. If by "forgive" you mean "stab in the back repeatedly."

The school looks good as far as I can tell. Don't really care about academics myself, but the place is set up like a small fort. Plenty of security there. Besides, it's run by Captain Jean-Luc Picard! With bonus mind-powers! How much cooler than that does it get? What do you guys think? Should I send the kid packing to those guys or not?

Dead already? Man, you guys suck!

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	4. Mood: Depressed

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: I've done some rather unwise things and have to apologize now. Things are going to be slow, but they'll get somewhere. It'll just be done a bit slower than I'd like.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Let the motherfucker burn!"

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Dear Diary,

An entire house full of things and the only thing of mine left is this stupid book. How's that for irony?

I knew it was too good to last. My luck hasn't been very good for a while, and Wade's is worse. The house is gone, burned to the ground along with everything not on our backs. Those guys trashed it up real good.

There was a big guy who seemed to know Wade. He called him "Vickie, sweet-heart!" and got disemboweled for it. I think that means they've known each other for a very long time. That seems to be the pattern I've noticed. The longer a person's known Wade the more brutal their attack will be.

Vickie looked like he had the same healing power Wade has, but I didn't get long to watch them go at it because there was another guy. A green-skinned jumpy asshole who bypassed Wade and came straight for me!

I barely got off the couch before Wart-Faced, Bug-Eyed, Jumping Asshole was on me. Yes, that is his full name, and, yes, he really deserves it. I'll call him Asshole for short though.

Asshole tried to get grabby with me so I kicked him in the balls and grabbed for the nearest gun (and I am _never_ complaining about Wade leaving weapons everywhere again). They attacked _us_ and were due a few bullets to remind them it's impolite not to knock.

Except Asshole wasn't being cooperative. He just kept jumping around like Mario and I'm alright with a gun but I still kind of suck at moving targets. Plus, he had like a ten foot tongue he used as a whip. Gross, right? Well, it was right on up till he hocked the biggest, slimiest loogie at me.

Right. At. Me.

I'll admit that I might have freaked out for a little bit over that. Slimy gob of snot. Who wouldn't? _**But**_, I did _not_ overreact. No matter what anyone else says, the flamethrower wasn't over-kill. I would've easily won that fight if Wade didn't grab me and teleport us away. Massive gouts of flame beat plain gross any day of the week.

The fact that it also burns houses down is not my fault.

At least I'm not the one who thought it'd be a great idea to seek refuge in a bar full of mercenaries. It wasn't bad at first, the fries were pretty good and everyone just kind of _stared_ but didn't come close. Then the dyed blonde behind the bar decided I was Wade's daughter and started _cooing_ at me.

I don't even know what's going on. Wade's off somewhere trying to find out about the guys who attacked him, and I'm stuck here with Weasel. I think he thinks he's protecting me. He sucks at it, but that's ok. I'm not completely defenseless. Besides, Trixie -the bar lady- looks like she'd beat off anyone who tried anything. She's pretty mean despite the cooing.

She keeps giving me food when her boss isn't looking, and said I could use the shower in the dressing room after her shift ends. I'm really starting to like her, she reminds me of my Aunt Beth. Just with longer nails and stripper shoes. The other girls are using it now, and she doesn't want me back there alone. Which is a polite way to say they're prostitutes and they're entertaining a bunch of men back there.

I'm seventeen, not five, it's pretty obvious that most of the women here aren't mercenaries. (I already talked to a few of them. They seem pretty nice even though they won't let go of the idea that I'm Wade's daughter.) Nothing else here is very interesting though. There's beer, which Trixie won't give me; pool, which is always full; poker, which Weasel won't let me play; and darts, which require your own set of knives to play.

I wish Wade would get back soon. I'm working on getting Weasel to let us stay at his place until everything's sorted. He's got cable and a clean couch. At least, I hope it's clean.

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	5. SWM Looking For Home Wreckers

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: I think this is going to be fourteen chapters. At least that's what the outline looks like as of right now. Also, school is kicking my butt.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Class of-! Fuck, I don't remember the year."

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Talk about a blast from the past. Man, I haven't seen good ol' Victor in ages! I keep missing him at all those Weapon X reunion parties, but what can you expect? I'm usually the only one who attends those. Well, except for when I manage to find one of the doctors who worked with it. Let me tell you, _those_ are the best parties! Have a few drinks, reminisce over all the times they tore me open, and then play a nice little game of pin the sword on the scientist/doctor/janitor. Fun times.

Victor Creed. C-R-E-E-D. Ringing any bells yet? This tall, bad mullet, and in desperate need of a manicure?

It's alright if you don't remember right away. Heck, I didn't know it was him until he shredded my sofa with his fingernails! I know you can't always hire the same actor to play a role, but couldn't they have at least _tried_ to keep some physical continuity there?

Don't get me wrong. I prefer Schreiber, he's definitely easier to look at than Mane. It just gets confusing for me and that's stress I don't need.

Still not ringing any bells? Ah, just ignore that ordinary ringing. I've hit you around the head a couple times so that's normal. How about his warty little friend, Mr. Toad? He's got one of those funny British accents and is probably all sore about almost getting toasted by Little Miss Pyro-Psycho. I'll give her points for enthusiasm, but minus a thousand for not thinking about the consequences of using fire inside my home.

Holy shit! Did I just sorta-lecture someone else about responsibility!

I think I just heard a hundred corpses rolling in their graves. Or maybe that's the sound of Hell freezing over, and Satan's about to bust in that door and tell me to stop it.

I've got to quit doing stuff like this. My rep as a badass merc went down the drain when I showed up at the Hell House with the kid in tow. I mean, seeing their jaws drop to their knees was awesome, but the snickering I could've done without. Do you know how much work it's going to take me to get back the fear and respect I lost when Daisy Duke started yammering on about how cute my _daughter_ is?

Wadette Wilson Jr. aside, thinking about the kid actually being my kid is pretty creepy. Thinking about _any_ kid being mine is creepy. Good thing I was forcefully sterilized when I got my upgrades, huh?

You're awfully quiet for a guy getting shaken down for info. Do I have to break your other fingers to get you to talk? I really can't spare the time to dick around with you. I left the kid in a bar full of sharks. She's good for now. Daisy Duke's good with a shotgun and controls the beer flow so all the guys respect her. Soon as she's gone though they'll be all over the kid. I got too many guys who don't like me there.

So, I guess you could say I'm a little impatient and really not willing to put up with your bullshit lies. I _know_ you know who I'm talking about.

Had a powwow with another old friend. Guy's name is Zero, but don't let him know I told you that. He gets all sorts of pissy when people don't call him by his new name, Maverick. Whatever. Once a Zero, always a Zero as far as I'm concerned. Turns out he'd seen Vicky a few years back, and he was talking about joining some hippy group. Call themselves the Brotherhood.

Ah ha, knew it! Come here, gimpy. Oh, don't give me that BS now. You've heard of them and you know more about them. Now, spill before I forget that I promised not to kill you.

See, Victor showing up and trying to kill me isn't even worth writing in my diary about. Him showing up with a friend to kill me might make me Tweet it. Maybe post a video of me trouncing their asses up on Youtube, but nothing else really. That's just how things are with me and Vic. I say hello, he eviscerates me, we go on our merry little ways. Them attacking me _and_ the kid is just taking things too far for him. It's not really his MO. Which means that he was attacking me with a purpose, and he's not what you'd call a long-term planner. Which means someone else came up with the plan and just told him to do it.

See? Makes sense doesn't it? Shut up! All I really want to know is what the hell Victor wanted with me, and, seeing as you're the unlucky bastard who sold the Brotherhood my home address, you're going to tell me all about it. Hear that click? That's the safety. For every, oh, let's say five seconds. For every five seconds you're not talking I blow off little pieces of you. Starting with your toesie-wosies!

One, two, three, fooouuuur-

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	6. Mood: Upset

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: Oh finals how do I love the? Let me count the ways... Well, here's another chapter. Be amazed as Rogue explores a river in Egypt! And I mention the OTP of the person who spawned this whole AU because I can't write Pyro worth a damn.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"This is not the reality you're looking for."

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Dear Diary,

Wade's off doing something stupid again. I know it's stupid because he won't tell me what he's doing. (Which is the very definition of stupid. If it weren't burnt to a crisp I'd say go look it up in the Dead-tionary. Wade wrote it in himself a few months back.) He also dumped me off at a boarding school so I wouldn't be able to bribe the truth out of Weasel.

The people are nice, I guess. Summers has a 2x4 permanently stuck up his butt. Probably why it's so firm and cute looking. (Wade said it first!) Grey is a _bitch_! She confiscated my gun and always stops me from unlocking the porn channel. Found out she's a telepath and have been doing my best to think of the filthiest things to get back at her. It's harder to do than you'd think.

Munroe's actually pretty cool, but I think that's because she's been confiscating all the pot for herself. (Note to self: try to get brownies from her.) Xavier is- Well, I don't know about him. Wade was pretty impressed, kept saying he was a guy who would boldly go where no man has gone before. I guess I can trust him, but I'm not afraid to admit that he intimidates me. Just a little bit. I think he's a telepath too. Which is probably why I feel that way.

The students are alright. It's like a normal high school, just with a bunch of mutants running around. I'm the 'outsider' right now. The strange girl brought in by a masked and armed man who almost made Summers lose his cool. (That was pretty funny actually.) So, everyone's just kinda watching me. I don't mind. No one wears the right kind of protective gear to deal with me here. It'd be too easy to just-

Nevermind.

They're making me go to classes which really sucks. I was _enjoying_ being a high school drop out, and now I've got to try to remember everything I brain dumped. Two cute boys hit on me in class today though so it's not a total loss. Too bad they're totally gay for each other. If it wasn't for the fact that I'm not going to be here for long I wouldn't mind playing their beard.

Hey, a girl can look and dream, right?

Yeah, too bad this isn't permanent. Wade said so himself. It's just until he can get things straightened from that attack. These guys owed him a favor, so I get the free tuition and board for a while. Beats staying at the Hell House for the long run. Trixie was nice but not _that_ nice.

Still, I could've stayed with Weasel. I almost had that funky mold smell out of his couch which would've made going there 100 times better. Sure, I would've had t-

Sorry, some of the kids wanted me to come out and play with them. I had to turn them down politely. No sense pissing these people off because I'm mad at Wade. They're still doing us a favor. Why he'd waste it on a few days of boarding though is beyond me. Would've been better to use it for back-up or something.

There's some serious firepower in this school.

Anyway, I'm just passing time now. Waiting for Weasel to respond to my email. He's changed his numbers again so I couldn't reach him yesterday when I figured out Wade's doing stupid things again. If he takes much longer to get back to me I'm going to have to kick his ass as bad as Wade's.

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	7. Warning: Contents May Explode

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Notes: Yep, Deadpool's getting angry, and angry!Deadpool gets a lot more focused. By the way, have I mentioned I hate finals?

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"I'm starting to get angry. You won't like me when I get angry."

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Ok, it's official, I'm a dick.

No, a real and complete utter _dick_. A dick the likes of which haven't been seen outside of Jerry Springer episode. I'm such a dick that _I'd_ off myself for free if I was told how much of a dick I was.

I'm a dick, but I'm a dick with a mission. And right now, Butterfingers, you're my mission. Squirm all you want. Those ropes'll only get tighter.

See, I had an interesting talk with a friend of yours a while back. Told me some real interesting things about the Brotherhood and that Magneto guy. Told me alllllllll about how they were looking for a girl. A mutant girl with a southern accent.

Now, I'm not a guy who likes to stick his nose into other people's kinky business. You want to have a little revolution-slash-terrorist action? Long as it don't involve me, I'm fine with it. Problem is, _this_ involves me and not in the way where I get paid.

That southern girl I was talking about? Yeah. She's _mine_.

My SIDEKICK you sicko!

She's mine and I don't appreciate any mutant messiah wannabe coming in and trying to kidnap her. I don't care what the hell he has planned or how much it'll 'save' mutant kind. He crossed the damn line the second he thought about taking my sidekick and I'd like to register a .9mm complaint with him. Personally and repeatedly.

Don't worry about the girl. She's safe as aces where even Vic won't get her. They'll take care of the kid for as long as she needs it, and I taught her enough to fend for herself after that. She's good. The kid is good.

She thinks I'm coming back. I'm such a dick!

Think that's funny, huh? Wanna know what _I_ think is funny?

I _know_ I'm not coming back.

Suicidal? Sure, why the hell not? I've heard the stories about Mags and I'm not stupid. I only play stupid in the movies. I got so many implants in me I can't even look at a metal detector without setting it off. Don't get me started on the swords.

See, despite all that, I also know I got a damn good chance of taking Mr. Messiah with me. If I was little younger or better put together, I know I'd survive it. But I'm not, I haven't been feeling so hot lately, and those military docs couldn't put together a McDonalds Lego set with step-by-step instructions and a couple of five year-olds if their lives depended on it.

Basically, no, I'm not expecting to live through this, but I ain't expecting to travel to hell alone. Whatever happens, happens. It's all fine just as long as the kid stays safe.

Man, I sound like an idiot! Good thing this is going to kill me, because I'd have to commit ritual suicide to make up for the damage this whole thing's caused my rep. Should've just stayed out of that damn chicken house.

So, Butters, help a suicidal fool out. Tell me where Magneto is.

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	8. Mood: Determined

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: Guess who found the damn notebook for this monster? My fault for having a sty of a room, I know.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"The Nile isn't just a river."

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Dear Diary,

Sorry. I've been neglecting you lately but it's not without just cause. At least that's what the slave drivers they call teachers here would think. Honestly, I've never done so much crappy homework in my entire life! Do they expect me to go to an Ivy League college or something?

Hah!

Keeping up with the drama here takes up the rest of my time. Bobby and John are so deep in the closet Narnia feels it in the morning. They're so obviously in lust with each other I don't know how they can stand it. They just radiate pure UST standing next to each other, and you don't need to be a damn telepath to know that. I can't see how no one else notices, but they just don't get it.

Somedays I wonder how much it hurts everyone to have their heads shoved so far up their butts that they miss it. It's not like they're pretending not to notice either! I brought it up to some of the girls and they were honestly _shocked_ at the thought of it.

Yes, some of the girls. I was able to fend them off for only a few days, but in the _three_ weeks I've been here I've learned that little Miss Jubilation Lee isn't one to take no for an answer. No matter how many insults or objects you throw at her thick head.

I kinda like Jubilee. She don't take anything personally and is a horrid gossip who isn't afraid to speak her mind. It's been easy becoming friends with her. Which is the _only_ reason I won't shoot Wade in the face -more than once or twice anyway- when I do find him.

Yeah. When _I_ find _him_.

It took me a while but last week I finally got it through my head that Wade wasn't coming back for me. He dumped me off here with no intention of keeping his promise. Probably even had it all planned out for a while too. The house burning was just an excuse.

I was living quite happily in my own version of Narnia until then. Stupid of me. I should've known it was coming from the start! I've never been able to have good things.

I was a mess that day. Locked myself in my room and cried myself into an utter _wreck_. I'm not too proud of it, feel like an idiot now. That's what I did though.

Stupid as crying over a guy is, I woke up the next day thinking better than I have since I got here. Grey wouldn't call what I did then "better" though. (I know because she made me write an entire essay on it.) You ask me, this school was just begging for it though. Not like I hurt anyone doing it. Well, Jubilee hurt her wrist towards the end but that's the risk you take when you TP an entire mansion.

It was amazing! Even though I got the whole "I'm so disappointed in you, I thought you were better than this" speech from Summers. Good thing he's such a cutie, it gave me something to look at while I ignored what he was saying.

They don't get it. I was being nice and polite until then because of a non-existent favor. Held my tongue, bit my lip, and made a whole list of things I'd do when it was over. See where I'm going with this Dearest Diary?

I'm not going to list it all out again. (I've already typed it once tonight, and will be turning it into Grey tomorrow instead of my homework. She turns such a nice shade of red when trying to suppress her rage, it almost matches her hair.) I can tell you that it's not as purposeless as the teachers think it is. Secure school ground my butt! It only took me a few days and pranks to find a way out of here over the walls. Sure, I could just walk out the front gates anytime I wanted, but where's the fun in that?

I never get good things. Never.

That's alright though, because Wade taught me that if you ever want anything you have to _take_ it. By whatever means are necessary and gratuitous. And that's exactly what I'm going to do later tomorrow.

I'll start at the Hell House and work my way out from there. Wade'll turn up eventually and by then I ought to have enough bullets to make this past week fade away.

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	9. RAGE

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: Edited a few things in previous chapters. Small things.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"The first step is admitting there's a problem."

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Now, normally I'd go into some long and vaguely witty introduction here, but let's face it. I've done enough of that already and don't want to start rehashing myself in the same series. Plus, I'm still pissed at SOMEONE for LOSING their stupid NOTEBOOK!

So just insert something witty and funny here while I insert my fist into your face. Alrighty?

What the hell, dead already! Man, they're really not making you terrorist types the same as they used to. Good thing you've got so many buddies back in that hovel of yours.

Speaking of huts, just got the new Deadhut spruced up and fully functional! I got all the illegal channels a scared cable guy can give, a fridge of beer, a cabinet of cheesy poofs, and a couch. My life is complete.

Yep! I'm doing A-Ok! Nice front door by the way. Where'd you get it, Hobos-r-Us? I don't think it'd take a kick from a pop gun, let alone your corpse being thrown through it.

ROOM SERVICE!

Sweet! There's enough of you poor suckers to keep me busy for at least five whole minutes! Sure, you can keep on overestimating yourself but I've had a bad, baaaad day.

The Deadhut is up but I had to stop by the old place to do a salvage run. The new place just didn't feel right without my lucky leg lamp. It's a little charred and smoky now, but it goes a long way to making things feel homey, know what I mean?

Of course you do! It's why you go that life-sized poster of Mr. Change-a-few-letters-and-I'm-saying-something-obvious-about-my-sexuality.

Don't give me that look. You thought it too when he wore that magenta suit, and if you didn't then you're a dirty, rotten liar! Oh, wait, that's what you are _anyway_.

Hey! Look. You got your poster, I got my leg lamp. You got no right to scoff at me.

Scream? Sure, especially after what I just did to your spine there. But don't you dare mock me again for my cheesy, vaguely pornographic lamp! Oh, come on. That was funny! I swear you guys got no sense of humor. Even the kid would've laughed at that.

Dammit. I promised myself I wouldn't think about it.

Now look what you've done! I was on the last step to recovery and now I gotta start all over again! Hold on a minute.

**Step #1. Denial!** I don't miss the kid at all. It was nice having a handy-dandy helper around who can cook a mean batch of brownies, but I don't need her. Nope. Nuh-uh, no way jose! I'm a free, wildly swinging, damned good-looking merc and I'm better off without some pesky side-kick.

**Step #2. Repress!** What kid? Nope. Never seen and Bambi-eyes Southern girls in my life. And if I did, I didn't let 'em move in with me and rearrange my life as they saw fit. Didn't happen at all.

**Step #3. Get drunk!** ...WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T HAVE BEER!

**Step #4. Go kick some ass!** Screw it! Your asses are gonna get so kicked, Chuck Norris will cry in sympathy! Don't give me that look, it's the best I could pull up in the middle of recovery. _I'm_ getting tired of Chuck Norris jokes and I started that fad!

Le sigh. Need to find another program because this one just sucks. Either you guys aren't tough enough or I get stuck on step three and end up using Weasel as a hanky.

Hey! Any of you alive?

Ah, fishsticks! Weas better have found the next group of you or I'm using his credit card to order hookers and kicking him outta his place again.

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	10. Mood: Done

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: I needed someone to be the foil here, so Tabitha gets picked on a bit here.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Two is not really better than one."

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Dear Diary,

I'm done here. It's been fun, I'd buy the shirt but I don't think they take traveller's checks.

I forgot how stupid and _petty_ school was. You'd think it'd be different in a place full of muties but it's not. It's like an all mutant soap opera here. Drama this way. Drama that way. Drama 24/7. Would you like a side order of angst with your drama? It's fucking ridiculous!

Sorry. That's Tabby speaking. Stupid cunt. Who the hell starts shit with a mutant who can _absorb you with a touch_! Stupid jealous bitches like Tabby, that's who! Idiots who take someone else's word that a friend of yours was seen making out with your boyfriend. _Christ_ how could I even touch her boy anyway?

Shit, sorry. Tabby's got issues and they aren't very compatible with mine. Long story short, we got into a fight over stupid shit. Now she's in a coma and I can't get her to shut the fuck up in my head. Also, the whole school here hates my guts now, because knowing about my powers is somehow different from actually seeing them used.

Idiots.

Bobby gave me the heads up on that though. So I'm packing up and heading out earlier than I'd planned. If I'm lucky I'll find Wade before Tabby's powers go out. Then I won't have to waste time getting a gun.

Can't even look in a mirror right now without wanting to scratch my own eyes out. I hate this. I hate my powers, I hate this school, I hate these people, I hate Wade, I hate-

Whatever. Better get going now before they decide to personally kick me out themselves.

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	11. Run Now

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: I'm not sure who got the lucky job of informing Wade that Rogue was gone, but this is real rage from him.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Sometimes, you just gotta curl up and die."

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Shut up.

I said: Shut. UP!

Stop screaming and listen to me. I was mad before. I was upset, perturbed, pissed off. Whatever you want to call it. Thing was, I was being _nice_ about it.

Don't think death was nice? Don't worry. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to meet that sweet lady.

If you haven't noticed by now, I'm fucking furious. Doesn't happen often because it really screws with my comedy schtick, and that is a crime against nature buddy. So let's cut to the chase here.

Nucket-head took my sidekick. I'm getting her back. Then I'm going to kill Nucket-head and every one of his messed up loonies who ever _thought_ about touching her. Then I'm going to track down that lying, useless Cueball so I can kill him and all his messed up loonies for not doing their fucking job.

All they had to do was keep her safe but they couldn't even handle that! How hard is it to keep one teenage girl out of danger for a bit!

She would've been better off with me.

Shut up!

I don't care what you think you're going to tell me. I already know you're going to spill your guts, literally and figuratively, because the Spanish-fucking-Inquisition's got nothing on me right now. Now feel free to yell out where they're taking her at anytime. I just might take mercy on you. Maybe.

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	12. Mood: Scared

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: There is an end to this and I can see it now. Might get it out this week because I'm about to go on a three week hiatus. We'll see how editing the final chapter goes.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"Things can always get worse. Always."

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Dear Scrap,

What kind of kidnapper lets their captive keep a sharp and pointy pen, but won't give them a notebook? Really crappy ones.

Obviously, I didn't make it very far before some familiar guys said hello. Vickie and Asshole were the last guys I wanted to see though.

Tabby left me a few hours ago. Not that her powers did me a whole lot of good. Her control over it is almost as sucky as mine over my own power. It was like I was throwing firecrackers at them. Her mouth only got me gagged and closer to Vickie than I ever wanted to be.

Asshole laughed the whole time. Wish I'd had a flamethrower. See how long he laughs then. He's still laughing at me. Came in just to insult me personally a few minutes ago. First chance I get, I'm sticking this pen in his eye.

Wish I had a gun at least. (Damn you, Grey) Or a knife even. Or even some lockpicks! Something that'd get me out of this.

I wish Wade was here.

...

The old man scares me. He just told me what- He just-

I want to go home.

I swear this isn't going to happen again. Stupid! If I get out of here I'm making Wade teach me more than what he knows. Enough to make up for having this stupid power. So this won't happen again, so I won't be this scared again.

Wade's gonna come get me. He has to.

Please.

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	13. With Vibrating Action

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: I wanted to rewatch the movie just for this chapter. Make sure that it lined up despite being such a wild AU setting. Which is harder to do when you don't own a working copy of it.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"One bullet, seven assholes, nice odds."

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The Statue of frickin' Liberty? Come on! How cliche can you get? Whatever floats your boat I guess. I'm not going to complain. Much. Now lets see what we have here.

People to the left and people to the right.

Awesome-sauce!

Just a little heads up to y'all before we kick off this lil' brouhaha, I don't care which side you're on. I gotta beef with you all and I'm going to settle it with as much gratuitous violence as possible. And believe me, that's more than the ratings of this story will handle.

Alright, hide and seek! Good game. I'll give you all a head start because I'm a sporting kind of gentleman like that. 1, 2, 99, here I come!

Oh, red-head! Look lady, what the hell's so hard about keeping a kid safe? You give her a room, remember to feed her, and occasionally take her out for walkies. It's so simple even _I_ could do it! And considering my track record of massacring pet rocks that says something about you.

What kind of New Age bull- Whoa!

Ok, naked-blue chick. Not expecting that. You get points for the whole naked bit, but that won't get you out of saying hello to my old friend here. No, not Mr. Hollow-Tip. My real old friend, Mr. Blood-Loss!

Huh. No blue blood? You suck!

Had to be the Statue of Too Many Stairs didn't it? Ok! Really, really glad I got teleportion powers. Just don't fail me now.

Landing. Landing. Little girl's room. Landing. Lan- Why do I smell fried frog? Stairs. Landing. Tor-

Hey Vickie! Aw and those other losers too! Well shucks folks. Looks like y'all got yourselves a nice little standoff going on and I'd just love to flatten you all, but I can't. My delicate and blushing ears are picking up a rather high-pitched and blistering tirade from above. What can I say? She's learned from the best.

Don't worry. I'll be back for you all in a bit!

Bamf! Man, I love doing that!

Hey kid. Didn't I tell you not to take that left turn at Albuquerque? It always leads to bad things. Like chicken houses. Now I know you're happy to see me, and, yes, that _is_ a gun in my pocket but you're gonna have to hold still so I can-

Seriously, hold still and stop screaming! I know you're in trouble! I know you need to get outta here! I know Magenta-!

Right behind me? Really?

Wow. I mean, _wow_. Hey, Mags, anyone ever tell you that you look like a giant dildo in that get up?

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	14. Mood: With a Bang Baby

Disclaimer: I do not own, and it is better that way. Because I don't want responsibility for it.

Warnings: AU to the nth degree.

Notes: Thus ends this portion of Chicken House. I think I might weep now, but all my tears were beaten out of me.

Welcome to the Chicken House  
by Fairady

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"By the way, Wade was totally lying when he said all I talk about is the Jonas brothers."

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Dear Diary.

I've given this some thought and decided the best way to do it is to keep my opening line and use Wade's medium. For consistency. Hopefully they won't be confused. Well, any more than they normally are.

Who? The readers. Don't ask, it's confusing enough that _I _know about it now. It'd just break your tiny little drunken minds if I had to explain it to you. I never gave it much thought before. Just thought he was crazy. But it all makes sense now. I tell ya, you really don't know someone until you've sucked them up into your head.

Oh, don't worry. I might be crazy now but I'll be better in a day or two. A little better anyway. Not sure this sort of crazy is anything that'll ever completely go away even if Wade gets up to take it all back. Truthfully? Between you, me, and this dirty alley; I don't think I mind that one bit.

But look at me getting sidetracked! Wade makes this whole narrating while actioning thing look much easier than it really is.

What Mags did almost killed me. I don't remember much of that night for myself. Mr. Closeted-Megalomaniac's personality took me over completely and left me pretty much dead to the world. All I've got is Wade's memories of it all.

Oh, I'm sorry. Was that your finger snapping? I only wanted to get your attention. You seem real eager to leave me and I'm only halfway through my narrative.

Mags really is the "master of all metals" and not just in the porn industry. So the swords stuck in Wade? Yeah, they didn't help at all. Mr. Issues ripped 'em out and stabbed him with them before Wade could even get another insult in. Which is damn impressive if unsporting.

Don't tell him I told you this but Wade actually blacked out from it. Well, a little from the pain of it and a lot from the way it screwed with his powers. And as soon as he wakes up we're having a serious discussion about all the little health issues he's been keeping from me. Came too just as he was sliding off the stupid torch. Which was plenty of time for Mags to do his thing with me.

Yeah, I'm not talking about that. Lets just say he's still in my head along with the new hairdo. That's the great thing about getting stuck with Wade though. The voices in his head are so loud I can't hear good ol' Mags at all. Not unless I want to.

Anyway, Wade was really scared when he saw what'd happened. I looked really out of it and the damn machine wasn't helping any. Nice to know he really does care about me though. God knows he'd never say it to my face.

Oops! Sorry about that face punching thing. I know you were being good, but it's a Wade response. The more serious and emotional things get the more of a jackass he is. It's instinctual. He can't help it which means I can't help it either.

Fine. Long story short -so stop sobbing you big baby- Wade stopped the machine. With the help of a couple of clips of bullets. But I was pretty much sucked dry by then. I guess I was dead, sure looked like it. Scared him even more. Enough for him to do something real stupid.

Yeah, he touched me. Idiot tried to find a pulse on me.

No, like this. Fingers to the throat and- Oops! Guess I shouldn't have used so much force, huh?

I guess his gloves got ripped sometime in his merry little jaunt up the Lady Liberty. Cheap pieces of crap. I'm going to have to remind him to beat Weas for it again. That's the third set to not hold up to their life-time guarantee! Doesn't anyone do quality work no more?

Hey! That was rude! I'm trying to talk to you all and you just take off running. It's not like I'm trying to kill you. Oh, he's fine! It was just a poke to the windpipe. He's still breathing. I think.

Fine, since you all don't want to play I'll wrap this up. I'm staying at the school just until Wade wakes up. And if he even thinks I'm staying behind again I'll break his legs. Can't break his arms because that's the first thing I'm going to do to him after I say hello. Guess the school can't wait to get rid of me either. They're tired of me tormenting Summers. I can't help it though! He really is adorable when he's trying not to blast me with his eyes.

Speaking of which, since you've all been so patient, wanna see what I can do with _my_ eyes now? I'll even give you a head start. 1, 2, 99-

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